Defenestrated and metamorphosed
Wasting My Youth in Prague conclusion
My sojourn in the Czech Republic is at an end. Today is the final day of the Simon Fraser University Prague Field School. Tomorrow my class will be defenestrated from our dormitory, which has thankfully not become a towering inferno during our stay, and I will shoulder my backpack and board a train for Vienna. A month-long, whirlwind tour of Europe will ensue, after which I will return to Vancouver and resume my dreary, mild-mannered, Clark Kent existence.
Although I have lived in Prague for almost two months, I feel I will leave the Czech Republic having seen nothing, done nothing, and learned nothing. Yet I know this is a deranged untruth. Forsooth, my time in Prague has opened up vast new areas of knowledge, as well as vast new areas of ignorance.
They say that coming to Europe changes your life. This field school was my inaugural sashay into European culture, and I know in some ways I am no longer the person I was when I arrived. In other ways, I am—unfortunately—exactly the same.
If I may be permitted a digression into vomitous travelogue clichés, my experiences this summer will forever change the way I think about culture. And people. And places. It will change the way I think about Canada, and my identity as a Canadian. When I return home, I will see the mundane details of Canadian life—everything from what I eat for breakfast to how I look at strangers on the street—in a new (as opposed to used) light.
This has also been an interesting experiment for me as a columnist. It was a perilous activity, writing about—and making jokes about—my experiences here as a newcomer who is not part of the local culture, because to a certain extent this means flaunting my ignorance in public. There are things I wrote in previous columns that I would write differently now, having spent more time here. Then again, perhaps the realisation that my perspective has changed is the most valuable insight of all.
It is precisely this changed perspective that has compelled me to declare one climactic, life-altering resolution. In the next few years, I will become a fluent speaker of French.
Two months in Europe has driven home a fact I have known all along, but heretofore refused to face: in most of the world you are an uncouth, uncultured ham if you only speak one language. No self-respecting, university-educated European speaks only one language. And really, since we live in an officially bilingual country where a third of the population speaks French, no self-respecting, university-educated Canadian should speak one language either.
So I am going to honour my European heritage and learn French. I’m going to be a good Canadian and learn French. Soon the day will come when I am officially bilingual, and the moment this is achieved I plan to start ridiculing unilingual people. The moment after that, I plan to start ridiculing French people.
I have been asked what I miss about Canada after two months away. Frankly, not much. Sometimes I miss the ability to walk into a store and communicate the simplest concepts to the person behind the counter. Sometimes I miss properly cooked bacon at breakfast. And of course, I miss my friends. But mostly, I miss the bacon.
Some final words on the Czech Republic. My view of the place is, as any irresponsible assessment must be, mixed. I have made some lovely new friends here, people as pleasant as you could hope to meet, but overall the Czech people do not take home the coveted congeniality trophy this year. Unless you are of Czech heritage, a masochist, or have a highly functioning sense of humour, the Czech Republic is simply not a place you go for the people.
But go you must. Prague is beautiful, the country is beautiful, the history and culture are fascinating, and the intoxicants are cheap. I have had the time of my life here, and I will definitely be back.
In summary, conclusion and denouement, coming to the SFU Prague Field School was by far the second-best decision I made in my SFU career (the best decision was, of course, getting involved with The Peak). So for God’s sake, if you only unquestioningly obey one of my commands this summer, make it this one: get away from this dismal mountaintop dungeon for some portion of your studies!
Become an exchange student, or if you’re like me and your GPA is nowhere near good enough for the exchange program, go to one of SFU’s field schools. You won’t regret it. Well, if nothing regrettable happens, anyway.
That’s all from Prague. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have the rest of this continent to defile. •
Originally published in The Peak, July 30 2001.
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